


Meeting Modification

by stirlingphoenix



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Shower Sex, Sweet Kisses, sexy boys being sexy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-15 23:58:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8078884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stirlingphoenix/pseuds/stirlingphoenix
Summary: The revised story of how Sousuke met Makoto. Also known as that one time Sousuke and Makoto got it on in a public shower. Either way, Sousuke can't complain.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ExtinctionOfReality](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExtinctionOfReality/gifts).



Sousuke watches Makoto with growing concern as a small, yet obviously noticeable frown spreads across his face. A soft, melancholic sigh escapes those pouty lips and his eyebrows knit together out of sheer frustration. His eyes seem to be attempting to burn holes into the tiny piece of paper, whose red colored characters have clearly offended him. 

It was one of those complimentary fortune cookies that came with a meal at any Chinese restaurant. Of course, it was all supposed to be fun and games, so Sousuke had broken open the cookie right after Makoto had given it to him without a second thought. 

To his credit, he had tried to dismiss the lousy fortune altogether, saying it was foolish and that Makoto shouldn’t even bother with it. But of course, Makoto wouldn’t hear of it, not that it actually took long for Sousuke to give in to Makoto’s insistences. One doe-eyed, look from Makoto, and Sousuke was handing over the bit of paper without any more reluctance. 

Upon reading the words You will meet your true love in a gym or a yoga studio, Makoto’s look of triumph quickly turned sour, and formed the disconcerting scowl that Sousuke’s looking at right now. Makoto doesn’t say anything, but Sousuke already knows what he’s thinking. 

For a moment, Sousuke has a difficult time deciding whether to lean over and kiss that pout right off Makoto’s face, or join in on plotting that insignificant bit of paper’s well-deserved demise. 

Eventually, he elects to do the former. 

“Hey guess what?” 

It takes a few seconds for Makoto to respond, as if he isn't yet satisfied with the amount of time he's spent giving that little sliver of paper a death glare. When he finally does, Makoto barely has the time to blink before Sousuke is on him, completely stealing away what little personal space he has and pressing his lips to Makoto's in a sweet, yet loving kiss. His reaches up to caresses Makoto's cheek and revels in how Makoto instantly melts into his touch. 

“It's no big deal,” Sousuke says, mumbling against Makoto’s lips. “Those things are fake to begin with, aren't they?”

“Well yeah, but,” 

“Fake,” Sousuke repeats after pulling back, this time with a bit more emphasis, trying to convey how ridiculous he thinks the fortune is.

Makoto falls silent after that, and returns his gaze to the fortune that is still innocently lying on the table. Another dejected sigh leaves his lips, and if Sousuke's not mistaken, it's a bit more forlorn than the last. 

Suddenly feeling rather irritated with himself, Sousuke quickly slaps his hand on the table right over the fortune and curls his fingers in to form a fist, effectively dragging the little sliver of paper along in his fist, and crumpling it up into a tiny ball. Then, with delicate finesse that sharply contrasts his earlier motions, Sousuke straightens the fortune, even taking a spare second to smooth it out between his thumb and index finger, before taking ahold of each end and tearing the paper nuisance to tiny shreds that would have no hope of being put back together right before Makoto's eyes. 

“Fortunes can't come true if you rip them up,” Sousuke declares in a voice that says what's done is done, and there's nothing that can change it. 

“Really?” Makoto blinks a couple times, looking just a tad bit skeptical. “I haven't heard that before.”

“It's true,” Sousuke nods his head in affirmation. Wrapping his arm around Makoto's shoulders, he leans in more and kisses Makoto's cheek. “And even if it wasn't, screw what it says. I've I already met the love of my life, and he's right beside me.”

The bold grin he’s now sporting pales in comparison to the pure, stunningly gorgeous smile that Makoto gives him, clearly stating the true extent of his adoration through one simple look. Suddenly, Sousuke's heart feels like it's beating a million kilometers an hour, threatening to burst from his chest and skyrocket to the heavens, where it can be on cloud nine, which is exactly where Sousuke feels like he is every time Makoto looks at him like that. 

He realizes that he must be gawking at some point, but before he can do anything about it Makoto leans in and plants a sweet kiss of his own to Sousuke's lips. The warm, loving look in his eyes never leaves. 

“You always know how to cheer me up,” he says, reaching up to caress Sousuke’s cheek. The warmth from Makoto’s hand only serves to amplify the fuzzy feeling that currently has a hold of Sousuke’s being. 

Sousuke automatically nuzzles Makoto’s hand and kisses the palm. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't?”

Makoto only smiles more. “Let’s get out of here and get a proper dessert.”

“That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day,” Sousuke snickers in response, before discarding their trays and taking a hold of Makoto’s hand to lead him to the nearest ice cream shop. 

As far as he’s concerned, the topic is over. While he’s been uncertain of many things in his life, if there is one thing he is absolutely sure of, without even a shred of doubt clouding the way, it’s that Makoto is his soulmate in every sense of the word. To him, is an undeniable fact, and nothing in the world would ever change that, especially not a knock-off fortune cookie.  
________________________________________

It's a regular weekday afternoon, and for the first time this week, Sousuke finds himself at the gym after work. In spite of the fact that his competitive swimming days have long since come and gone, the desire to stay physically active never left him, and he has always held onto his weight training regimen and arm strengthening exercises. 

Although, now that he really starts thinking about it, thanks to a certain special someone, he doesn't have the time to work out more than a couple times a week. Who in their right mind would go to the gym (or anywhere else) when they could go home to a cute boyfriend who's most likely fallen asleep on the couch for a late afternoon nap? Who would deliberately miss the opportunity to curl up with a professional cuddler such as Makoto, gently kiss him awake, and watch as those gorgeous green eyes flutter open? Certainly not Sousuke; the only reason he’s at the gym now is because Makoto has the late shift at his job tonight, and the appeal of going home to an empty apartment just isn't there. Makoto still won't be back when he finishes his workout, but at least now he won't be alone for nearly as long. 

Not only is he spending less time at the gym now, but he isn't killing himself with excessively strenuous workout routines anymore. He doesn't have to. Staying fit is one thing, but now the constant, agonizing pressure of always needing to do more and be better than he was the day before is gone. Makoto tells him that he's perfect the way he is, and he believes it. He can feel Makoto's devotion and love from a mere glance alone, and if someone as wonderful as Makoto can cherish someone as seemingly broken as him, then perhaps he's not as messed up as he had originally thought. 

Sousuke is so immersed in thoughts of Makoto, that he's lost count of how many repetitions he's done, and even of what exercise he's doing. He's done this so often that no train of thought is required to carry his body from one thing to the other, it's a simple case of going along with the motions. While he knows he should be paying attention, he also has to admit that Makoto-themed daydreams were becoming more of a regular occurrence. 

It's not until he hears a familiar, kind voice ringing through his ears that his concentration finally breaks, and he realizes that not only is he in the middle of an intense bench press, but that while he's laying down flat on the bench, the man that consumes his every thought, the one and only Tachibana Makoto, is standing right above him, looking down at him with the same loving gaze that Sousuke knows all too well. 

The confusion over seeing Makoto here at this particular moment is gone almost as quickly as it came. It's rare, but not unheard of for Makoto to be let go early from his part-time job every so often, and much like Sousuke, he's not one for going back to a Sousuke-less apartment unless he has to either. 

Makoto slips his hands under the bar that Sousuke already has lifted in mid-air, and with a degree of strength that Sousuke hardly ever sees, takes control of the weight and lifts it back and onto the ledge, leaving it securely placed over Sousuke’s head. 

Watching the tarnished metal bar for a few seconds, paired with a certain spark of disapproval in Makoto’s eyes, allows the realization to hit him squarely in the face. He’d been bench pressing a substantial amount of wait all on his own, without any assistance from a spotter, and he hadn’t even noticed. 

If there’s one thing Makoto refuses to let up on when it comes to Sousuke, it’s his safety, and even though it was completely unintentional, he had just been caught completely disregarding that one single factor. 

A sincere apology is just on the tip of his tongue, but just as he’s about to say something, Makoto interrupts him with a voice that's far too alluring for Sousuke's mind to properly comprehend. Whatever Sousuke's about to say at that very moment is all but forgotten. 

“Hey there, sexy. You come here often?” he asks, looking down at Sousuke with a flirtatious grin and an air of confidence that Sousuke is well accustomed to when he’s alone with Makoto. 

At first, Sousuke doesn't reply. It seems like a joke, a cheesy pick-up line that they might use on each other for the sake of silliness, but there's something about the sound of Makoto's voice that throws the whole situation off. He can't place it exactly, or even say why, but this doesn't feel like a joke, at least not in the whimsical sense that he's used to. 

Makoto doesn’t say anything more, and it’s all too obvious that he’s waiting for a response. 

It’s almost as if Makoto’s actually pretending that he doesn’t know him, which automatically gives Sousuke the idea that Makoto has spontaneously initiated some sort of role play. While Sousuke has no problems with this, he still wants Makoto’s motive. He knows Makoto all too well, there is most definitely a reason behind this, he just can’t figure it.

And suddenly out of nowhere, it dawns on him. It’s a long shot, but somehow his brain connects the two dots that couldn’t be further from each other, and finally, he gets it. 

That damn fortune cookie. 

Well, perhaps it’s not really a bad thing. He’s not fond of the fact that Makoto’s clearly been fretting over that ludicrous fortune for the past few days, but in this scenario that Makoto’s trying to create for them both, it’s all true. And if it finally puts Makoto’s mind at ease, then who is he to say no?

“Apparently not often enough, because I haven't seen your pretty face around until today,” he replies in a cool tone that mimics Makoto’s voice.

Admittedly, that wasn’t the smoothest answer he could have come up with, but for an ‘off the cuff’ answer, he feels like it’s not half bad. 

Surprisingly, Makoto doesn’t react at all. Not even the pale dusting of a blush colors his cheeks, which only means that he’s upped his game for this. 

To say that Sousuke is merely impressed by this would be a severe understatement. 

The grin that Makoto’s currently wearing seems to widen a bit, and he gestures to the bar, finally acknowledging the fact that Sousuke originally thought he was being called out on. 

“Looks like you could use a spotter.” Not even the slightest hint of disapproval taints his voice as he speaks, and it’s really like this Makoto doesn’t know him, therefore knows nothing about his workout habits. 

A smirk appears upon Sousuke’s lips, and he makes a mental note to indulge in Makoto’s apparent kink for role play in a far more exciting sense at a later time. 

“Yeah,” Sousuke replies, placing his hands back on the bar and relaxing a bit. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Sousuke watches with a mischievous glint in his eyes as Makoto’s smile grows even more, as if he’s just read Sousuke’s thoughts. Keeping up with the little scenario he’s created, Makoto doesn’t comment on it, and continues with normal conversation. “How many reps?”

“Three sets of twenty.” 

Makoto only nods and wraps his hands around the bar on either side of where Sousuke’s hands are, together they lift it off the ledge, and Makoto relaxes a bit, leaving the majority of the weight to fall to Sousuke, allowing him to lift the bar up and down as he pleases. Sousuke’s motions are automatic, his biceps and extend and contract at a steady rhythm as his thoughts are again consumed with Makoto. Only this time, Makoto is right above him, watching him with mischievous eyes that wordlessly cheer Sousuke on, while somehow managing to make silent, yet playful advances towards Sousuke at the same time. A small, get genuine grin graces Sousuke’s lips as he quietly returns everything Makoto dishes out at him. 

The need for actual conversation continues to be nonexistent as they progress with the routine, moving onto other equipment and trading places, so that Sousuke can spot Makoto, and take the rare, yet much desired opportunity to watch Makoto's arm muscles flex and drip with perspiration. Sousuke simply doesn't have the willpower to keeps his eyes from darting back and forth between the flirtatious look in Makoto's eyes and his well-defined arm muscles that flawlessly control each piece of equipment Makoto touches. His shirt prevents Sousuke from seeing much more, but he can't say that he minds. He has more than enough imagination (and personal knowledge) to describe Makoto's hidden pectorals and abdomen in vivid detail already. 

It's not until they’ve gone around the room, having exercised every muscle on their bodies at least once and being thoroughly drenched in sweat that Sousuke decides to call it. 

“I'm about ready to hit the shower,” Sousuke says, finally breaking the silence. A strong note of reluctance tinges his voice as he speaks. He doesn't want to break this little scenario Makoto has going, but it's getting rather late, and at this rate they're likely to be kicked out without a shower, the idea of which Sousuke's not exactly fond of. 

Makoto doesn't seem to mind, however. The soft, adoring smile that graces his lips tonly seems to grow and morph into something a bit more devious, while still keeping an air of light-heartedness. 

“I'll join you,” he replies with an easy-going tone. He wants to do something more, it's written all over his gorgeous face, but he hesitates, and Sousuke knows exactly why. 

“Yamazaki Sousuke, it's a pleasure to meet you,” Sousuke mumbles as he awkwardly extends his hand out to Makoto, this time actually trying to pretend that he hasn't met Makoto before. 

The way Makoto's face lights up is absolutely priceless. He's positively beaming with light and happiness; his eyes are practically sparkling with tender adoration, and the sight almost makes Sousuke swoon. 

“Tachibana Makoto.” The sheer joy in Makoto's voice as he takes a hold of Sousuke's hand is truly angelic in its sound, and it leaves Sousuke speechless. His heart suddenly skips a beat, as if he's falling for Makoto all over again. 

At least now he can say that he has in fact, met his true love at the gym. 

All he can manage to do is offer Makoto a small smile and quietly follow him to the locker room, walking directly passed a rather demeaning sign that reads ‘Men’s Showers. No members of the opposite sex’ in bold black letters. 

Again, no conversation is required as they prepare themselves for a shower. As Sousuke steps into an unoccupied stall turns the shower nozzle on, and allows the hot water to sooth his aching muscles, he assumes that he and Makoto will meet up afterwards, but he's only a little surprised to hear the soft fluttering sound of the plastic shower curtain being opened and shut just as quickly. 

“Sousuke…”

It wasn’t the use of his first name that signaled the end of Makoto’s role play, it was the tone in which he said it. The sensual, wanton, pure need that laced Makoto’s voice as he spoke his name was absolutely exhilarating in a way Sousuke couldn’t even begin to describe, it turned him on like nothing else and made him forget any muscle soreness instantly. 

There’s only one thing stopping him, however the logic that keeps him in place is like a glass that’s precariously set on a ledge where a curious cat can get to it. It’s just asking to be broken.

“Sign says-”

The look in Makoto’s eyes is a confusing mix between You are just too cute and Do you really think I care? It immediately shuts up whatever feeble protest Sousuke has on the tip of his tongue. “The sign says that no ‘members of the opposite sex’ are allowed in the men’s showers, and it certainly doesn't say anything about sharing a shower.”

Makoto doesn't say anything more, nor does he need to. It's only a matter of seconds before Sousuke has him pinned between the slick tiles of the shower wall and his own body. The full frontal contact brings about an intensely euphoric sensation all on its own, the likes of which Sousuke can never get enough of. It automatically sends him into a state of mind where he can think of nothing except fulfilling all of Makoto's deepest desires; it’s a place he won’t be able to come back from until they are both thoroughly satisfied. 

Eager hands gracelessly run up and down Makoto's toned torso, desperately trying to feel every inch of Makoto's skin, as if Sousuke hasn't already memorized how amazingly good Makoto feels under his ravenous touch a thousand times over. Sousuke can feel the rise and fall of Makoto's chest as he pants softly more than he can actually hear anything, and that simply isn't good enough for him. The fact that they are technically in a public shower is all but forgotten as Sousuke beginning to assault Makoto’s neck with soft butterfly kisses and gentle nips. He ever so gently grazes his teeth along Makoto's collarbone from the base of his neck to his shoulder, eliciting a nearly inaudible moan from Makoto. 

That was a start, but Sousuke knows he can do better. 

A mischievous grin creeps upon his face as he moves downward to continue his onslaught of kisses across Makoto's pectoral muscles. Every so often his tongue darts out and traces the well-defined curves and muscles of Makoto’s gorgeous body, resulting in more hushed sounds of bliss from Makoto, and to Sousuke’s delight, each new groan grows a faction louder than the last. 

Sousuke doesn’t stop there, however. He never does. He keeps moving lower and lower, until he’s kissing the tip of Makoto’s half-hardened cock and continuing onwards towards the base. At this point, it doesn’t sound like Makoto’s even trying to quiet himself, much to Sousuke’s amusement. This only inspires him to keep going, which he’s only a little too eager to do. 

Again, he kisses the tip, causing a soft mewl of approval to slip past Makoto’s kiss-swollen lips. This time Sousuke opens his mouth and starts to gently suck on the engorged flesh. He always means to go slow, to tease Makoto just a little bit, but unfortunately Sousuke has never had that much self-control when it comes to this. He couldn’t care less about how crude it sounds; he loves sucking Makoto off, and it’s as simple as that. He’s become addicted to the salty taste of Makoto’s cum, and the way the fluid leaks out in droplets directly onto his tongue. He loves to literally feel how Makoto’s dick gradually swells in his mouth, and how slick he can make the flesh feel when he’s really into it. Coupled the muffled moans that escape from Makoto’s throat when he’s trying so desperately to at least make an effort in quieting himself, the sensations meld together in a wholly unique aphrodisiac that spirals straight down to Sousuke’s groin, turning him on more and more by the second. 

Every so often, Makoto seems to lose his grip and buck his hips against Sousuke, unintentionally thrusting himself further down Sousuke’s throat. Knowing that Makoto never means for this to happen, Sousuke can’t help but take pride in himself when actually does. It’s not often that Makoto loses control like this, and if he does, it means he’s pretty damn good.

Tender fingers begin to frantically card through his wet hair, eliciting a soft purr from him that reverberates around Makoto’s cock. That’s another thing Sousuke loves about this, he positively adores how gentle Makoto’s hands are, and how they slowly become frenzied to the point where they’re hastily grabbing onto the short strands of hair, as if Sousuke’s ministrations are somehow threatening the reality that Makoto’s so desperately trying to cling to. 

Sousuke’s never said outright that he likes having his hair pulled, but from the shameless way he moans around Makoto’s cock when it happens, he’d be surprised if Makoto doesn’t already know. 

“Sousuke…” Makoto’s voice is breathy and frantic; yet Sousuke can tell that it only betrays a small hint of how good Makoto’s really feeling. 

And that’s all Makoto needs to say. 

Ever so carefully, Sousuke pulls back and lets Makoto’s erect cock fall from his mouth and stand parallel with his stomach. Giving the head one last kiss, he pushes himself back up into a standing position and automatically wraps his arms around Makoto’s shoulders in one fluent motion, as if embracing Makoto was his default stance, and it was only natural that he’d return to it. 

Makoto’s fingers are still in his hair when he’s pulled back and guided into a tender kiss, the likes of which only Makoto is capable of. Sousuke doesn’t even think about what’s happening before his lips are responding to Makoto on their own accord and kissing back with as much passion as he can possibly muster. Their lips fit together perfectly like they’ve done so many times before, and undoubtedly will do again.

The question of ‘who’s the better kisser’ is something that they will never agree on. Sousuke insists that Makoto is hands down the best kisser between them, and not surprisingly, Makoto remains steadfast in his refusal to acknowledge that opinion. Sousuke just doesn’t understand how Makoto can be so adamant about this. When Sousuke continually loses all sense of himself time and time again due to Makoto’s spectacular lips, the answer seems all too obvious. 

Lost in the passion, Sousuke doesn’t realize that Makoto’s reaching down to the floor to retrieve something, and he remains oblivious until Makoto literally shoves a cylinder-shaped object into his hands. 

“What’s this?” he asks, breaking the kiss and looking down to see that Makoto has placed bottle of conditioner in his hands. He has no idea how he missed this earlier, but then again, he figures it’s not all that surprising. After all, he’s always far too fixated on Makoto to notice anything else half the time. 

“Use it as lube, love.” The kind smile that usually graces lips quickly contorts into a devious, almost wicked smirk. Sousuke is so fascinated by the transition, that he nearly misses Makoto's next words. 

“That’s all.”

“You sure?”

Makoto leans in and presses his lips to Sousuke's ear before tracing the shell of his ear with his tongue. Makoto's warm breath makes Sousuke's entire body quiver with anticipation. A soft whimper manages to make its way past his parted lips, which only seems to encourage Makoto's ministrations. He gently nibbles his way down the shell before taking Sousuke's earlobe in between his lips and sucking hard on the tender flesh. 

Makoto knows exactly what makes Sousuke tick, and much to Sousuke's pleasure, he is an expert in the art of knowing precisely how and when to take advantage of that. Makoto hasn't done anything out of the ordinary, but then again, he never has to. Sousuke never fails to make it all too easy for him, not that he has any control of himself at this point. It's not his fault, he can't help the fact that when Makoto decides to take charge that he is rendered essentially powerless, not that he's ever tried to overcome the switch.

Sousuke suddenly feels like he's on the verge of losing his balance, or more accurately, like his legs are about to give out from under him, and his hold on Makoto instinctively tightens, unintentionally resulting in his fingernails digging into the muscled flesh of Makoto's back. Sousuke doesn't even realize what he's doing until he earns a deep groan of approval from Makoto. 

This is something about Makoto that's still fairly new to Sousuke. After spending an entire lifetime learning how to restrain his strength, the idea of being able to go all out is completely foreign to him, and sometimes he still has trouble believing that not only is Makoto is not a delicate flower that can be easily crushed, but that he often seems to provoke Sousuke into using his unbridled strength in the bedroom. For reasons not yet fully understood by Sousuke, Makoto craves his power, begs for it even. 

But of course, Makoto is far from finished. His hold on Sousuke tightens in turn, and hot lips press themselves against the skin where Sousuke's cheek and earlobe meet, and begin to whisper in a sultry voice that even the devil himself could be tempted with. 

“Make me really feel it, Sousuke.”

A low, guttural moan erupts from the bottom of Sousuke's diaphragm, the sound echoes off of the shower walls, drowning out the continuous splashing of water against tile for a second, and Sousuke knows then and there that he's lost their little unspoken ‘game’. His mind is all but overwhelmed with a blissful sense of euphoria, and the wiring that somehow connects his brain to his mouth seems to be fried. He can't manage to speak in single syllable words, let alone form anything close to a cohesive argument. 

Now, Makoto's watching him with a perfectly innocent smile plastered on his face that all but screams his victory. He gestures the bottle of conditioner into Sousuke's hands, and this time Sousuke takes the hint. 

He notices how Makoto's eyes remained trained on him as he coats his hand in strawberry-scented conditioner and seamlessly proceeds to cover his own dick in the makeshift lubricant, incidentally jerking himself off in the process. It's difficult not to give the head a bit more stimulation than what's strictly necessary, but he manages to focus his now one-track mind on the endgame, which is most definitely not to get off by his own hand. 

Sousuke idly muses that Makoto must be in a particularly playful mood, because normally he's not one to spectate. However, the hunger in those emerald eyes is all too apparent, and a quick lick of his lips confirms that right now, this is exactly what he wants from Sousuke. 

Knowing his, Sousuke decides to give in just a little and begins to lubricate his dick at a slower, more leisurely pace. He finally lets himself tease the head a bit, pressing his thumb against the slit and failing to stifle a soft moan. He remains acutely aware of Makoto's predatory gaze, the knowledge that Makoto can easily lung out at him at any time only entices him to keep going with his little show, within reason, of course. 

It isn't until his cock is coated in equal parts conditioner and precum that Makoto seems to be satisfied. He says nothing, only smirks wickedly at Sousuke before taking a small step backwards and turning toward the shower wall. 

Logically, Sousuke knows what Makoto's doing. Of course that makes complete sense, but even so, Sousuke’s brain ends up cutting out, ultimately leaving him confused. 

“What're you doing?”

“Hmm?” Makoto hums softly, turning back just enough to face Sousuke. “It'll be easier like this.” 

The logic is as sound as ever, but Sousuke is still reluctant to comply. 

A confident grin graces his lips. “I'm up for a challenge if you are,” he says, leaning in to kiss the shell of Makoto's ear and whisper in a low, sensual voice of his own. “I wanna see you, Makoto.” 

A sudden hitch in Makoto's breathing tells Sousuke that he's already won. 

“Sousuke…”

Makoto has never been able to say no to such a request, and Sousuke is well aware that today won't be any different. In spite of the difficulties, Makoto wants this exact positioning as much as Sousuke does, and Sousuke knows it. 

Sealing his lips to Makoto's in yet another loving kiss, his hands slide down Makoto's body and slip behind to take a firm hold on his ass. To his chagrin however, his conditioner-slick hands make it utterly impossible for him to gain any leverage when it comes to lifting Makoto. He doesn't even think about it when his hands act in their own accord and come back up to run themselves through Makoto's damp hair. He grins in satisfaction when Makoto moans blissfully from the contact. He would love to spend a few extra moments ruffling Makoto's wet hair and massaging his scalp, but as it is, his patience is quickly waning, and if the increasing volume of Makoto's voice is anything to go by, he is too. Feeling that he can finally get a grip, Sousuke’s hands travel back down and attempt to lift Makoto again. 

This time he easily gets a decent grasp on Makoto and lifts him up against the wall, allowing Makoto’s legs to secure themselves around his waist in the process. It takes a bit of maneuvering, but his cock easily finds Makoto’s entrance--the sensation the tip of his dick gets from simply being pressed up against that ring of muscle is more gratifying than it has any right to be. Sousuke can already feel how sinfully hot Makoto’s body is, and it’s almost too tempting to give in without warning. He knows how Makoto likes it, but once in a while, he gets the urge to stop himself, to have one last second of coherent communication with Makoto before allowing himself to indulge in the true bliss that is Makoto’s body. 

Their eyes lock onto each other almost instantly, fiery aquamarine bores into sparkling emerald and engage in a silent exchange of words that only they can comprehend. A thousand questions flash through Sousuke’s eyes at once, and he knows without a doubt that he can see a thousand and one answers though Makoto’s, and he knows then and there that the time is right. 

Without even a second’s hesitation, Sousuke pulls back down on Makoto’s hips, effectively slamming him down on his dick in one fluent motion. For the briefest of moments, Makoto’s eyes widen in surprise, and a spark of fear takes root in Sousuke’s heart at the mere thought of hurting Makoto.

“Mako-”

“Fuck...” A deep moan that almost sounds like a pleasured growl erupts deep in Makoto’s throat, and the small trace of fear that was growing exponentially within Sousuke vanishes instantly. Makoto’s eyes become clouded with need, bringing forth an entirely new shade of green that Sousuke only gets to see in moments like this. 

He doesn’t attempt to move, not until Makoto tells him to. While he’s now confident that there is no actual pain involved, he still understands the need to adjust, and for Makoto, he can give him all the time he needs. 

“Sousuke...” 

His name is just barely whispered through Makoto’s lips, and is nearly drowned out by his haggard breathing that seems to be out of sync with the rise and fall of his chest. Sousuke can tell that Makoto wants to say something more. He can almost see the gears grinding against each other in Makoto’s mind as he so desperately tries to not only put a string of words together, but also connect his brain with his voice and actually say something. It’s a predicament Sousuke is painfully familiar with, and fortunately, just like Makoto would for him, Sousuke knows exactly what Makoto needs without anything being said. A knowing smile spreads across his face as he leans in to place a soft kiss on Makoto's forehead. He means to reassure Makoto, to let him know that he understands without the need for words, but with the sudden quiver of Makoto's body against his own, coupled with the way he clamps down on his cock at that that very second, the last shred of his fragile control shatters into a thousand irreparable bits. It's like Sousuke's mind had been held together by a single rubber band that was previously being stretched out over and over again, until it could no longer endure the constant strain, finally snapped, and haphazardly flew off somewhere in the distance, never to return again. With all resistance gone, Sousuke himself is left to flounder in a chaotic, yet heavenly sea of self-gratification, a world that he was all too ready for. 

“Makoto.”

He almost doesn't recognize animalistic sound of his voice to be his own, but at this point he's far too gone to care about anything other than the intense, almost overpowering sensation of Makoto's impossibly tight warmth wrapped securely around his cock. He's never quite sure how he manages to restrain himself from coming each time upon initial penetration, but somehow, some way, he succeeds in keeping himself together and finding what little clarity he needs to put the entirety of his focus solely on Makoto. One arm snakes behind Makoto and firmly wraps itself around him to aid in bringing their bodies even closer together, while the other braces his body against the frictionless tile right by Makoto's head. As he begins to thrust upwards at a fast, uncontrolled pace, Makoto's legs seem to grow tighter and tighter around his hips. The thought that Makoto's powerful thighs will surely leave bruises in their wake serves to turn him on him even more, and the pace he has set rapidly becomes more and more erratic. 

He's not really sure how Makoto manages to maintain such a steadfast grip on his shoulders when water is dripping all over and making it nearly impossible to do anything more than what they've already got going on, but at the same time, he's hardly surprised. Makoto really is that good. He pushes back against Sousuke's thrusting with perfect accuracy, keeping them both moving in sync. While he has no clue what Makoto's doing, Sousuke is positive that some sort of ministration that he can't see is the sole reason why they've been able to keep this positioning, instead of sliding to the slick floor in a jumbled mess of limbs. It has to be Makoto, especially when it feels like his actions do nothing to contribute to their current stability. 

For what must be the hundredth time that afternoon, Sousuke steals away what little space is still between them and kisses Makoto senselessly. There is no rhythm or finesse to the way he kisses Makoto, his lips move sloppily against Makoto's, desperate for as much contact as possible. Makoto’s kisses are every bit as frantic and needy as his are, which only makes Sousuke kiss harder and more passionately, fueling the fire that burns deep within him and threatens to consume him whole. 

Sousuke can never understand how Makoto manages to tighten around his dick at the exact moment Sousuke thinks he’s gained enough will to keep himself from falling into the abyss of pure, unadulterated ecstasy that is Makoto, effectively destroying that newfound resolve that Sousuke had fought so hard to achieve in the first place. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think that Makoto’s doing it on purpose.  
At that exact moment the desire that's been growing within completely overtakes his entire being, and Sousuke has no choice but to succumb to the overwhelming heat as his thrusts quicken to the point where Makoto can no longer keep up with him, and their rhythm is uneven and dissonant. He's on that edge, not-so-carefully toeing the fine line that verges the cusp of ecstasy in its purest, most physical form. And he knows all too well that he’s not alone. 

Makoto is right there with him, urging him on with heated kisses and passionate moans that perfectly express the extent of how lost in pleasure Makoto is too. It’s the perfect combination that finally pushes Sousuke past that threshold, and sends him into a freefall of absolute bliss that has no foreseeable end. The sudden pause in his ministrations, followed by the rigid, jerky movements of his body are the only warnings he manages to give Makoto before reaching his climax and coming inside of Makoto’s tight body.

Barely a second passes before he finds the strength to resume thrusting into Makoto, riding out his pleasure while simultaneously pushing Makoto towards his own. Makoto’s lips are parted and wet with water droplets, which somehow only accentuates how soft and kissable they look. Sousuke doesn’t need any further persuasion; once again sealing his lips to Makoto’s, he initiates yet another fiery kiss that wordlessly proclaims his undying love and devotion for Makoto, his one and only. 

Sousuke can feel Makoto’s orgasm hit as his body spasms, almost violently so, against him and the shower wall. The shameless moan that tries to escape Makoto is silenced completely by Sousuke’s zealous kisses and the downpour of water hitting the tile, and his cum coats both his and Sousuke’s stomachs. 

The shower spray continues to splash against the walls and floor without abandon as they slowly come down from their post-orgasmic bliss. Soft kisses and hushed ‘I love yous’ are whispered between each other as they both work to gain enough will and balance to separate without allowing the other to fall onto the slippery floor in a boneless mass. After what seems like far longer than necessary, Sousuke manages to push against the wall while pulling Makoto with him, allowing Makoto’s feet to fall from his hips and hit the floor and for Sousuke to pull out of him all at once. Sousuke’s hold on Makoto doesn’t falter during the few moments it takes for Makoto to regain his footing, and soon enough, they’re both able to stand on their own without any concern for slipping.

More sweet kisses and tender caresses are exchanged as they rinse off and finish their shower. They’re back to exchanging playful glances and borderline teasing looks when they finally exit the shower and get dressed for home. It’s not until they’ve stepped outside into the cool night air that Sousuke breaks the silence again. 

“Will I see you again?” Sousuke asks for the sake of ending their little scenario as it began. He tries to sound hopeful while keeping any hint of humor from his voice at the same time. 

Makoto doesn’t even attempt to mask his amusement as pure, hearty laughter erupts from his chest. The sound, in tandem with the radiance that fills Makoto’s being, makes Sousuke’s heart soar, and he’s left watching Makoto, and reveling in his happiness. 

“I have a feeling you might,” Makoto jokingly replies, giving Sousuke a playful wink and taking a hold of Sousuke’s hand and interlacing their fingers together. 

The smile never leaves Sousuke’s face as he brings their intertwined hands to his lips and kisses Makoto’s. He doesn’t say anything more, and Makoto understand perfectly. His only response is to kiss Sousuke’s hand in turn, before pulling on Sousuke and leading them home. 

________________________________________

The next time Sousuke visits the gym, it’s business as usual. He follows his workout routine as he usually does, without any surprise visits or hiccups of any sort. The entire afternoon is mundane as it could possibly be, and once again, Sousuke is so lost in his own thoughts that he nearly misses the one, singular change. 

It’s subtle, and if he hadn’t bothered to glance at the sign above the shower room after taking a shower, he would have completely missed it. Below the warning that forbade members of the opposite sex from entering the showers, new print in the same bold, black letters read: ‘Only one occupant per stall.’

His eyes have barely finished scanning the sign before he’s pulling out his phone, taking a snapshot, and immediately sending the picture to Makoto. 

'Apparently we've inspired a rule change.' 

The fact that they'd also apparently been caught was all too obvious, and went unsaid. 

Luckily, Makoto seems to be on his break, because he gets a response not thirty seconds later. 

'Looks like we'll have to join a new gym.'

Sousuke stares at his phone for several minutes, trying to decipher exactly what Makoto's text means. It perhaps takes him longer than what it should have, but when the realization finally hits him, uncontrollable laughter erupts from his chest, the likes of which he's still getting used to, again, thanks to Makoto. He doesn’t give a damn if anyone sees his outburst, after being caught having sex, Sousuke doesn’t think anything will ever be able to embarrass him again. 

After several, laughter-filled moments, Sousuke is finally able to contain himself a bit, at least enough to send a reply. 

Makoto’s right of course, they would need to sign up with a new gym. That is, if they wanted to do it again. Although Sousuke knows that Makoto’s joking, he can’t deny the fact that if Makoto had somehow developed a kink for nearly getting caught, he’d be all too willing to comply. 

'God, I love you.' 

The text is simple, but Sousuke knows that Makoto will understand what he means, and how much of a kick Sousuke got out of his joke. 

Just like before, Makoto’s reply is nearly automatic. 

'Love you too, Sousuke.'

A warm smile spreads across his face upon reading those words. While he can’t see it, he knows in his heart that on the other side of town Makoto is sporting a similar look, looking wistfully at his phone, wishing he could have Sousuke right there with him at that very moment. 

He knows this of course, because he wants the exact same thing. 

His eyes never once leave his phone as he dresses and gets ready to leave. Just as he’s about to head out for the evening, Sousuke opens his phone one more time and sends one more text before going home.

'Heading back now. I’ll have dinner ready when you get home. See you soon.'

This time the response isn’t instantaneous, and Sousuke knows that Makoto’s gone back to work. 

Pocketing his phone, Sousuke picks up his bags and starts making his way home, and occupying himself with what he should make Makoto for dinner along the way.


End file.
